


If You Wanna Touch Her, Ask!

by Missy



Category: Elvira Mistress of the Dark (1988), Rocky Horror Picture Show
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Canon-Typical Consent Issues, Consent Issues, Crossover, Dinner, F/M, Humor, One Night Stands, Overnight Stays, Pre-Canon, Unexpected guests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Elvira is stuck at the old Frankenstein Place, and her host is determined to be hospitable.  But he's never really encountered someone as formidable as Elvira.





	If You Wanna Touch Her, Ask!

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark/Rocky Horror Picture Show, The, Dr. Frank-N-Furter & or / Elvira, Writer's Choice.

“Whelp. Looks like I took a wrong turn at Amityville again!” Elvira sighed and propped her road map between her fabulous hair and her unfabulous dash visor. “Wonderful – I have to go three miles the other way to get where I need to go, and I’m starving for a bite!” She looked up and down the road upon which she’d been traveling. Off in the distance was a very large, very foreboding-looking castle. Dark, gloomy, and hulking, it also seemed to have its own weather system; lightning flashed and thunder boomed, only illustrating its overbearingly huge size.

She smiled at the sight of it. “What’s a cute and cozy place like that doing out in the middle of nowhere?” Elvira wondered. She shrugged at the silence that answered her. “Well, I guess I could pop in and find out if they know where the nearest restaurant is,” she decided, and slipped her key back into the ignition. The trip to the old house at the end of the long rural road was surprisingly rainy. She regretted keeping the top down on her convertible for the first time since she’d purchased it.

Fortunately, Elvira came armed with a large umbrella that shielded her bod – and her hair. She quickly bounded up to the front door and rang its bell. The man who answered wore an ill-fitting suit and had long, stringy hair. Elvira wasn’t the kind of gal to judge a person by their cover, though – she cheerfully said, “Hi! Would you happen to know where a girl could get something to eat?”

“Hmm,” the man remarked. “I believe there’s something in the freezer.” 

It sounded like he’d said ‘someone’, but Elvira was undaunted. “Oh, I don’t want to bug you! Aren’t there any restaurants nearby?”

“I’m afraid not,” said the besuited blond. “You’ll have to keep driving toward where you came from. And back toward Denton,” he said the word with undisguised malice, as if he were telling Elvira about the horrors of particularly nasty roach or a particularly oversize piece of food lodged between her teeth.

“Hmm. Well, I guess I could go that far if I needed to.” Her stomach grumbled. “Though I’d rather not need to.”

“If you wish to stay for dinner, I suppose that could be arranged.” 

She peered over his shoulder – into the ornate foyer and the glittering rooms beyond . “What do you call this place, Grumman's Chinese Castle?”

“The master calls it paradise, my sister calls it home.” Then, in a mumble, the butler added, “I call it hell.” 

“Hell’s a lot cleaner than I remember,” Elvira said. She wandered into a very elaborate ballroom – empty at the moment – and took the butler’s instruction to sit down in the dining room with a nod.

“The master will be here shortly,” he said.

Elvira shrugged at the notion, but settled in. There was a mild commotion near the door to the dining room, and she couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“…And who told you I’m accepting guests?” The man – wearing a lovely green evening gown sparkling with sequins, his hair tied up in a bun - addressed his butler as if he were speaking to a dog, and that got Elvira’s hackles up.

She sprang to her feet. “You can ask me! I’m right here!” She waved. “Hello. Elvira, Mistress of the Dark and babe of the night.” She thrust out her hand. “You are?”

He eyeballed her from head to toe. “Doctor Frank N. Furter. I appreciate that you’ve dressed for dinner. It’s hard to find genuine class in this place.” 

“It takes classy to know classy!” she said. “So do you mind if I stick around for dinner?”

Furter shrugged. “If the maid’s made enough to share for once.” 

They were answered by the sound of a gong being hit hard enough to reverberate around the room. A redhead with dramatic eye makeup stood beside the still-swinging gong; she held the mallet before her with surprising grace. 

“Dinner is prepared,” she said.

*** 

Dinner had consisted of a large birdlike…object (A turkey with three legs?) and several odd-looking side-dishes. Elvira ate them with zeal, and Frank picked through the meal, with the butler and the maid sitting very closely together. The tension between the three of them was utterly juice and the gossip in her wanted to know more about it, but she knew she should get back on the road. They retired to the parlor, where the maid played an oversize ivory harp and the butler loomed over them all.

“Why not stay for the evening’s entertainment? I could show you my newest experiment.”

“That’s nice, but I’m not exactly a scientific gal – I’m more hands-on,” she said.

“Mmm, that can be…delightful.” The butler delivered a green vessel and he held it up to the firelight. “Absinthe?” 

“Gesundheit,” she said. “But seriously, I can’t! I’ve got to be on the road. I’ve got places to go. People to scare…”

“But it’s so late! Riff Raff, show her to the guest bedroom. A lady deserves her beauty sleep.”

Elvira shrugged. “Well, I suppose I could wait until morning!”

“That’s right. Give yourself over to absolute slumber,” Frank said.

“That’s a weird way to put it,” Elvira said, yawning into her fist.

***

That night she had the strangest dream. She was making out passionately with someone, but she couldn’t see their face. She squinted into the darkness to get a better look at what waited for her. 

Was it the butler?

No, the maid.

_Frank!_

“Yes! Say my name!”

Elvira was startled out of her spell by the sight of his face and – with surprising strength - lifted Frank right up and off of her body, shoving him to the ground with a gasp and a thump. He stared up at her in offended pique. 

“Look, buddy, I don’t know what you’re into, but I don’t do head trips! If you want to do the wild thing, all you have to do is ask!”

Frank glared. “The only reason I haven’t killed you is because I must know who makes your lipstick!” he said.

“Oh, that’s easy! Dead ‘N’ Wild!” she said. 

He sat back and stared up at her – his mask had slipped slightly. “I don’t know what to say. You’re the first human who’s ever asked me to make love to them without any trickery involved.”

“A sweet thing like you?” she asked. “Who have you been hanging out with?”

He pouted dramatically. “Those unworthy of me, apparently.” He eyeballed her thoughtfully. “I suppose you are worthier than them?”

She grabbed him by the hem of his lacy nightgown as he squealed. “The worthiest,” she said, and kissed him.

***

The following morning, Elvira hummed as she swathed her hickey-coated neck in a scarf and cheerfully picked her umbrella up. Striding down the stairs with confidence, she met a sulking Frank in the parlor. “Thanks for the sleepover,” she said.

Balefully, Frank perched on his throne, watching her prepare to leave with the most miserable look in his eyes. “I have studied at the altars of Rita Hayworth, Machiavelli and Son of Sam, and yet you’ve bested me in every aspect. I would toast you, if I didn’t want to scratch your eyes out.” Then he produced a few dramatic tears.

“Story of my life, sister,” said Elvira. She pecked him on the cheek. “If you’re ever in Transylvania, look me up,” she whispered.

“I’ll consider your offer,” he said. “Riff Raff! Show her to the door!”

And when she was alone, sitting in the front seat of her car, Elvira took a look back over her shoulder. There was something solitary about Frank as he pressed his face to the window. She felt a little bad for him.

Oh well. _If he wanted to find her...._ she reasoned to herself, and gunned the motor.


End file.
